


To Find a Home

by ahana, Carolus



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Alternative Universe - Lilo & Stitch, M/M, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-19 06:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13117623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahana/pseuds/ahana, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carolus/pseuds/Carolus
Summary: “Is that your name? Isak?”The boy stares at Even again, but this time there is relief coloring his eyes and his lips slip upward.“Isak,” Even says once again firmly and then another time to allow the questions the name brings settle on his tongue, “Isak.”Or, the Lilo and Stitch AU that no one knew could be a thing





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! The AU that started with 'this made me think of a Lilo & Stitch AU where Isak is a grumpy alien, except maybe not blue' and actually managed to get past the drawing board. We're very excited to share this with you and hope you'll have as much fun reading it as we had coming up with it. 
> 
> This work is a collaboration between Carolus and ahana, where ahana writes the chapters from Even's POV and Carolus writes the chapters from Isak's POV, as well as the prologue. 
> 
> As for now, we have chapters 1 and 2 pre-written, aiming for weekly updates.

**The Experiment  
** **Prisoner's dungeon  
** **Exoplanet LS 626  
** **Scutum-Crux, Milky Way**

 

_Experiment 2121, code name ISAK, is eyeing the plasma cannon aimed at its head. It’s a beautiful piece of technology, the newest version with a completely redesigned hi-tech DNA tracker, making sure that the muzzle never strays from its programmed target. Replacing the previous solution of armed guards at constant post, this shooter is meant to keep even the most dangerous of criminals at checkmate. With a Plutonium-238 power source and the most modern of wireless technology, it is completely self reliant and mobile. Perfect for at-distance control._

 

_It is also an incredibly stupid idea when the prisoner you are guarding has one of the planet’s most powerful computers implanted in its brain, with hyper sensitive signal receivers and transmitters in every skin cell. Had the experiment been familiar to the concept of gifts, it would have thought the installation of this gun had been one. Surely the substitution of a guard system that has been working perfectly for the last four years with this can be nothing else._

 

_Closing its eyes, the experiment concentrates on finding the cannon’s wireless identity. Having just awakened, it still feels sleepy and unfocused, making the process take a couple of seconds longer than usual. It doesn’t take too long though, before the canon is completely within its power, mechanics becoming an extension of the experiment’s own limbs. Expertly avoiding all firewalls and snares, the entire process happens without any of the cannon’s operators noticing that their weapon has been compromised._

 

_With the cannon in its powers, the experiment makes a quick job of freezing the numerous surveillance cameras surrounding it. The frozen frames will eventually be discovered, but as the experiment usually keeps quite still in its cell, it reasons that it will be long gone before the freeze is discovered. Having neutralised the cannon and frozen the cameras, it now only has to get rid of its physical confinements before it can make its escape._

 

_Studying the fine cables running from its wrist and onto sockets on the floor, the experiment tries to calculate which cables it will be able to safely remove without any alarms going off, and which ones it will have to save for last, hoping it will be able to escape before anybody reaches its cell. Seeing as most of the cables are monitors of the experiment’s vitals that will immediately sound an alarm once they are removed, the experiment realises that there really isn’t any elegant way to do this. It will just have to work as fast as possible and make a run for it._

 

_Having made its decision, the experiment twists it’s wrist, gaining a good grip at the cables. With a solid tug it attempts to remove all the cables at once, but lacking the physical strength for it, it has to tug several times before all cables are loose. By then the alarm has already gone off, and it is only a question of time before somebody armed with manual guns will reach it. Standing up, the experiment reaches behind it for the last of the cables preventing its escape, the thick main cord connected to the back of its skull with the smaller feeding tube running into its nose. Gaining a good grip around it with both hands, the experiment rips it out, wincing at the uncomfortable sensation it brings. Fluid nutrition and electrolytes starts spilling out from the damaged cord and soaking the experiment’s back, making it shiver._

 

_Turning towards the exit, the experiment makes a quick work of the triple locked door by efficiently blasting it into oblivion with the plasma cannon. Door no longer a problem, it hurries out of the cell, entering the hall and heading for the spaceship deck. Having already downloaded the entire building’s blueprint, the experiment wastes no time figuring out where to go, quickest route already clear in its head._

 

_What the experiment soon realises may pose a bigger problem than it had initially calculated, is how poor its physical shape is, and it’s only a matter of minutes before it has to slow down out of fear of collapsing. Having lived a rather sedentary life with only mild exercise sessions to build its physique its entire life, the experiment has little experience with the physical exertion running like this entails. Walking as fast as it can whilst heaving for breath, the experiment can only hope that the slowly dissolving host bodies of its creators and captors are in even worse shape. As long as it can run faster than them, it can easily sabotage the technology they rely on for moving around, and thus still make it’s escape._

 

_Halfway to the deck, one of them finally manages to catch up with it, entering from a side door and blocking the hall in front of it. Although it is wearing it’s armour above its uniform, the visor is up and the experiment recognises it as JULIAN, one of the lead scientists responsible for the ISAK project. The experiment remembers being scared of them, how they for a period would beat it every time it was unable to comply with their orders, only to suddenly make a complete personality turn a few weeks later, where instead of punishment, the experiment would be treated to gifts and physical affection whenever it expressed desirable behaviour. The sudden turn had been stressful for the experiment, leading it to a minor fit where the experiment accidentally cut off the power for the entire district._

 

_Now JULIAN is looking at the experiment with eyes thrice as big as the experiment’s, one of four shaky hands holding an old fashioned portable electrolaser with the other three clutching to the support beam at the hoverboard. In their harsh language that could be categorised as a series of low frequency growls, they instruct the experiment to stay still, telling it that they do not appreciate this behaviour from the experiment and that there will be consequences, less so if the experiment complies with their orders right now without making a fuss. They both know that the experiment reacts badly to stressful situations, and that in order not to put them all in danger, it should return to its cell where its outbursts can be contained._

 

_The experiment lowers its eyes to the crisp white floor. It knows that what JULIAN is saying is true, and it has been brought up to respond to their orders with submission. The disobedience feels uncomfortable, but it’s been many rotations around the mother star since the experiment felt wholeheartedly loyal to its creators, and by now its want for freedom is far bigger, nearly deafening the programming in its head telling it to obey. Therefore, raising its eyes and looking directly into JULIAN’s eyes, the experiment stops their fragile heart by activating the malware worm it placed in its pacemaker there during the last time it was used to upgrade their systems. All JULIAN can do before crumpling to the floor, is send the experiment a look of betrayal. Picking up the electrolaser from where JULIAN dropped it to the floor, the now armed experiment steps over its former handler and continues down the hall._

 

_Knowing its key to freedom is only a few doors down the hall now, the experiment elects to use the last of its strength in order to speed up. Hoping it will prevent any more of its keepers from showing up, it commands all doors in the area save for the one leading to the flight deck to lock up. It’s an easy maneuver for it to perform even in this exhausted state, seeing as it’s been connected to the facility’s system even before it was conceived from its artificial womb. Leaving it is therefore bit of a risk itself as the experiment has never lived more than an hour without it, but it has calculated that it has a 72.34% survival chance without the omnipresent system in the back of its head, having experimented with disconnecting and reconnecting a few times. That is a calculated risk the experiment is willing to take in order to gain freedom for the first time in its life. A concept so foreign it so far only has read about on the planet’s common database._

 

_The experiment’s precautions pays off, and it manages to reach the ship deck without meeting anybody else. Having used the video cameras in the room to make sure there is no trap waiting for it, the experiment quickly makes its way to its chosen vessel, a sleek red machine with white stripes running down its front. It’s one of the best vessels in the planet’s spatial fleet, capable of making massive leaps in space over the course of only a few hours. With the experiment’s plan of reaching a planet on the other side of the galaxy, it’s the only vessel suited for its needs that’s currently on the deck and not in use._

 

_Climbing in, the experiment quickly uses the wires dangling from its wrists to connect to the ship’s system. It would probably be strong enough to both make and uphold a wireless connection for the entire trip, but the experiment knows it’s working on reduced capacity and it would rather not risk losing control mid-leap and be torn to pieces by the crushing powers of space. Once connected, the ship’s system starts up willingly, and all the experiment has to do is assign a destination for the autopilot to navigate to. Activated by the activity of the ship, the giant hatched in the roof opens, granting the ship free passage to the sky. Soon the experiment will be on it’s way to a planet known for granting asylum to creatures like the experiment, where its chances of being found and returned are slim. A place in a foreign galaxy where it can be free._

 

_Take-off is quiet save for a low whirr from the motors, and the ship gains height fast, passing the hatchet within seconds. The experiment has spent much energy to control its emotions so that they may not hinder its escape, but right now it struggles to contain the growing excitement within it. All its calculations are telling the experiment that staying is the safest alternative, but yet there is a drive within it stronger than the lull of security, a drive from deep within, telling the experiment that it belongs elsewhere. Allowing the excitement to fill its body, the experiment leans back in the seat and watches the planet grow smaller underneath it._

 

_Just as the ship’s display starts the countdown for the first of three space-leaps, the experiment detects a flashing light in its side view. Turning around, it is met with the view of the rest of the planet’s active spatial fleet, all which have their laser cannons aimed at the experiment’s ship. One of the ships must attempt to contact it, because next to the countdown a call ID with an option to accept or decline has appeared. The experiment waits with declining the call until the countdown is almost at zero, hoping it will buy it enough time to make the leap before the fleet ends all diplomatic attempts and starts shooting at it._

 

_As the experiment feels the ship enter the leap, it lets out a sigh of relief. Its relief doesn’t last long though, because suddenly the ship starts shaking, warning lights flashing and alarms going off. Through its cable connected to the ship the experiment doesn’t have to watch the message at the display to know that the ship’s been hit by a laser shot which managed to enter the leap with it. Helpless in mid-leap, there is nothing the experiment can do as the wounded ship aborts the leap, tumbling back into regular space before it even manages to reach another galaxy._

 

_Assisted by the power from the unfinished leap, the ship hurtles through space like a comet. The experiment has no chance at steering it, and can only activate all of the ship’s defense mechanisms in the hope that it won’t turn into a massive fireball entering the atmosphere of the blue planet appearing in the front window._

 

_Down on planet Earth, intergalactically recognised as Exoplanet 2121 - TELLUS, a young man is looking up at the sky. Little does he know that the particularly bright shooting star he just observed is a failed attempt at reaching freedom._

  

  


	2. Weary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! So, here's chapter one for this fic that I've grown unhealthily attached to.   
> Thank you to the wonderful Sue for beta reading this. You're so clever. This chapter is so much better after you've looked at it!   
> Thanks for reading this. I hope you like it! :)

**Even**

**Oslo, Norway**

**c. 2017**

 

“Alright guys! How about a ten minute break while I go over all the pictures I have right now?”

 

The models break apart from the lazy group hug they were positioned in, walking in different directions. Chris pulls his phone out as he heads towards the bathrooms, Sanjiv grabs a plate of fries and tries to get the ketchup bottle to open on the other side of the room, while William slithers through the back door, grabbing his jacket on the way. Even waits till each of them moves away from the backdrop before grabbing a broom to clear the ground of the tiny black confetti the models were required to throw in the air. He hears footsteps walk towards him and looks up to see Eskild giving him an exasperatedly fond look. 

 

“That means you too, Even,” Eskild says, his camera still hanging around his neck as he points towards the back door, “Go get something to eat. You’ve been here since lunch and I don’t think I’ve seen you take a bite of food since you walked into the studio. Get yourself a burger or a sandwich so that I can go to sleep properly tonight, without the thought that I might accidentally have participated in child labor looming over my head.” 

 

“I’m only two years younger than you,” Even laughs, but nonetheless drops the broom in the bucket for cleaning supplies, “And I’m not a child, you idiot!” 

 

He dusts his hands on his jeans and then quickly realizes that those were the last clean pair of jeans he has, which means he has to do laundry when he gets home.  _ Ugh.  _ He walks towards where his backpack is lying haphazardly near the lights, grabs his coat and begins walking towards the back door. 

 

“Yeah? Well, this idiot hands you your paycheck at the end of the month, so you better do what he says,” he hears Eskild shout behind him. 

 

Even chuckles and steps outside into the cold air. He pulls his hood over his head, shuts the door behind him, and takes a deep breath. There’s something about the cold air that settles over Oslo in November that makes Even want to close his eyes and just breathe. His skin is prickling against the cold and he can feel each shiver that travels up to his neck and back down to the tips of his toes. The air he inhales is cold and nips at his nose. A strong gust of wind blows through the street, rustling the empty branches above Even’s head. It  _ burns _ all over, it’s harsh. Still, it’s what he needs right now. 

 

His phone  _ ping _ s and he doesn’t have to look at it to know who it is. His phone has been constantly ringing since his appointment with his therapist last Thursday, where Ann had concluded that Even needed a “stronger support circle” because he was “doing too many things that require individual effort and cause isolation.” Ever since then, he has been flooded with calls and chirpy texts from his mother asking him about what he had done that day, what he was cooking, what ever happened to that party he wanted to go to, and would he like to come to dinner with his Aunt Karin? 

 

Even can’t find it in him to respond unkindly to her, even if that’s what he wants to do the most. He is tired, and the thought of fighting with his mother doesn’t sit too well with him. Instead, he sends back short replies, with lies that would make his mother happy. Like earlier, he had shot a text to her about a friend he had made on the tram on his way to work (he had not; he had stuck his earphones in his ears and prayed that every person that got onto the tram would choose any seat but the one next to his). He figured that would make her get off his case and worry about her art studio instead. 

 

He should have known better. 

 

**_Mamma [Tirsdag, 19:23]_ **

_ Oh a new friend! Do tell me more? What’s he like? Does he go to UiO or does he work?  _

 

**_Mamma [Tirsdag, 19:24]_ **

_ Oh how about I call you instead of texting?  _

 

_ Oh shit,  _ Even sighs. 

 

**_Even [Tirsdag, 19:24]_ **

_ No mamma.  _

_ At work. Busy. Will call later. _

 

Even leans his head back against the wall and exhales, watching the air in front of swirl in small white clouds. They crowd around his lips and then float away from him.

 

**_Mamma [Tirsdag, 19:24]_ **

_ Okay baby. You’re coming home tomorrow aren’t you?  _

 

**_Even [Tirsdag, 19:24]_ **

_ Yes. _

 

**_Mamma [Tirsdag, 19:25]_ **

_ Why don’t you bring that friend of yours along? I’d love to meet him!  _

 

**_Mamma [Tirsdag, 19:26]_ **

_ Alright baby I’m going to sleep. _

_ Can’t wait to see you!! Take care of yourself!  _

_ Don’t forget to eat healthy! All that take-out isn’t good for a growing man.  _

 

Even’s tired. His mind is a slush pile and exhaustion is seeping through every pore on his skin. A weary ache spreads its way through Even’s chest. He wants to go to his apartment and watch a shitty movie, preferably with a tub of ice cream next to him. He doesn’t want to think about how he hasn’t filled in his positivity journal since the first day, or how Mikael’s texts sit unanswered at the top of his inbox, or of William tripping things up on set just to rattle him, and the number of lies he’s been telling his mother. He doesn’t want to feel guilty or sad or angry. He just wants to lay on his bed and do absolutely nothing. 

 

It’s just one of those in-between days, he supposes. 

 

“Hey, nutty. There’s a coffee spill over here you might wanna clean up.” 

 

Even’s eyes shoot open and his lips involuntarily pull themselves into a frown. Without moving his head away from the wall he turns to face William, who is standing next to the corner of the building, holding a paper cup in his left hand. His right hand is drenched in coffee travelling up his arm and into his unnecessarily short sleeves - Calvin Klein. Coffee is pooling around his shoes - Chanel - in a dark contrast to the frosty floor of the veranda. 

 

“First of all, the mop is literally on the other side of the door you’re leaning against,” Even says as he stretches his arm out, “Second, I’m an assistant not a fucking janitor, geez.” 

 

“Bro,” William says, his voice void of any emotion as usual, “if you want your weed, just clean the coffee.”

 

Blackmail.  _ Great _ . 

 

Even can’t do this. He pushes himself off the wall and walks away from William towards the street ahead of him. A sandwich, Eskild had said. Maybe he’ll get that. 

 

“Oi. Where are you going?”

 

Even doesn’t answer him, just keeps walking. The gravel crunches underneath his boots. He pushes his hands into his coat and balls them up. He can hear William make a sound of annoyance behind him, but he can’t bring himself to walk back. 

 

“Do you want your shit or not?” William yells, a little louder this time. 

 

Even stops mid-step and looks up at the cloudy sky, as if it could make the decision for him. 

 

“I’m going to get a sandwich because I haven’t eaten all day,” he says without turning to face William, “Can I do that before cleaning your mess up?”

 

Without waiting for a response, Even keeps walking. He wishes he didn’t have to put up with William. In fact, he wishes he could punch William, purely for the satisfaction of knowing he may have fucked up one thing in his jerkish existence. Even met William over the summer when he was just interning at the studio for the summer. William was a regular model that the studio employed because his brother knew the owner. They didn’t get along in the beginning -  _ gee, what a shocker _ \- but when Even found William outside one day smoking a joint, he had to let go of his hate for the asshole. He needed a release and weed was the perfect solution, so they struck up a deal and he began to get enough supply to last him a month. Even just didn’t think he’d have to put up with William’s antics for this long. 

 

He’s lost in thought, breathing a little heavily, when he hears a soft whimper.

 

Even lifts his head up from where his gaze was burning holes into his boots. He stops in his path and waits. 

 

Another whimper, from his right this time. 

 

Even turns and looks into the alleyway. Two dumpsters, blue and green, line the left wall and the right wall is covered in posters for concerts and plays. In between the two dumpsters, trash bags are strewn carelessly. It’s in these trash bags that Even sees movement. First, it comes in the form of weak rustles, and then suddenly, an arm reaches out from below the bags, grappling for a way out of the tangled mess. Even gasps as he sees the pale arm scrabbling for purchase. He takes a large step forward to help, but suddenly a trash bag flies away from the pile with enough force to go over his head and land in the middle of the street. The  _ thump _ sound echoes through the narrow street, and Even’s eyes widen as his head snaps back to the alleyway. 

 

Where the bag used to be, a mop of golden curls now sits, and another hand has joined the first to detangle the mess of trash bags. Even’s eyes flit across the scene following the hands that fly from bag to bag, occasionally flicking one meters away from its mother pile, some of the trash spilling out from the bag and landing in the middle of the alleyway. Trash bags hit the poster wall, fly over his head and even slump against the fence at the end of the alleyway, slowly revealing the upper naked body of a boy. 

 

The boy stands up and -  _ holy shit fuck, he’s completely naked.  _

 

Even wants to avert his eyes but can’t. Things Even didn’t notice before begin to scream for his attention. He is almost as tall as Even but the boy’s entire body is covered in soot and his outstretched hands are shaking vigorously against the wind. Cuts and bruises mark his skin, the red of his blood has mixed with the black dirt to create ugly strokes of grey across his figure. A large gash runs along the side of his ribs. Even moves his eyes up for the sake of modesty and privacy. The boy’s hair is in disarray and it flops about on his head as he turns on the spot a couple times. Then his eyes land on Even. 

 

He sharply inhales and scrambles backward, tripping over his feet and some of the spilled trash. Before Even can even attempt to get a word out, the boy hits his head against the wall and lets out a painful cry. 

 

Even winces and rushes forward, but that only forces the boy to burrow himself into the wall further. His eyes are bloodshot and there is spit dribbling down the corner of his pale lips. His teeth clatter but his eyes are unwavering as they scrutinize Even intensely. One of his hands balls up into a fist and his arms flex like he’s preparing himself for a fight. Even wants to tell him he has nothing to worry about; he’s never been much of a fighter anyway. 

 

“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you,” he says as softly as he can muster. He puts up a gloved hand and tries to give the boy a reassuring smile. 

 

Instantly, the boy lurches forward and drives his knuckles straight into Even’s left cheek. Even yelps and staggers back from the punch. He can feel tears forming in his eyes and quickly slipping down his cheeks. Pain shoots into every part of his body and he’s pretty sure his jawline will never look the same again. He tries to swallow but his cheeks don’t allow his lips to come close enough together. He blinks his eyes open and sees the whole world slowly swim into focus. The boy stands in front of him, feet spread apart, as if anticipating a retaliation. 

 

“You don’t have to punch me,” Even croaks, making sure to keep his voice soft. The boy is probably lost and scared. If Even can get him to understand that Even only wants to help him, maybe he’ll calm down and Even can call the police or  Barnevernet . “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” 

 

The boy keeps his hands up but doesn’t punch Even again, so he takes that as a good sign and removes his hands from where they were shielding his face. 

 

“I just want to help you,” Even says, “what is your name?”

 

The boy doesn’t move. Not even an inch. In fact, Even thinks that the more he speaks, the more intense the boy’s murky green eyes turn. So, Even tries a different approach. 

 

Even squats down on the ground. The cold seeps through his jeans and his knees knock against each other slightly. He shifts so that he sits cross legged and looks up at the boy who looks baffled at Even’s behavior. Even’s butt is getting soaked, and the chills are spreading to every corner of his being. Where the harsh cold was welcoming a while ago, Even now wants nothing but the warmth that being indoors would bring, but he really needs to assure this boy that he’s not a threat to him. He jiggles around a little so that he doesn’t end up freezing his ass off, but keeps his eyes locked on the other’s. 

 

“See? I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

The boy cocks his head to the left adorably, and his eyebrows furrow to meet in the middle. His fists are still balled up at his sides and his stance doesn’t falter but he looks at Even curiously. A shiver runs through his body and his toes curl up. Immediately, Even realizes what an idiot he is. If he is freezing, then the boy is probably on his way to becoming an icicle. 

 

He quickly sheds off his coat and pushes it towards the boy. The boy takes a small step back and Even quickly worries that he might repeat the last few minutes again. 

 

“No no! Use this to cover yourself. You must be freezing,” he says. 

 

The boy’s guarded look doesn’t change, not even a flicker of understanding flashes on his face. He just curiously looks between the black coat in Even’s hands and Even’s face. He cocks his head to the side as if trying to decipher why in hell Even would give him his coat. 

 

_ Maybe because you’re freezing, you pretty idiot _ , Even thinks. And that’s exactly when it hits Even. The confusion about Even’s coat, the unnecessary punch, the defensive pose when Even tried to talk him, it all adds up perfectly. 

 

“You don’t understand Norwegian, do you,” Even asks, in English. 

 

The boy’s expression doesn’t change but he brings his arms around his torso, rubbing his sides gently, like he understands that Even isn’t about to attack him. 

 

“You don’t understand English either,” Even utters.

He shakes his coat off and pretends to wear it slowly and then takes it off and points at the boy with one finger. He does it twice again for emphasis, pulling his hand out of the wrong hole the second time, and then sticks his coat out again. This time the boy’s calloused fingers reach for the coat slowly. When his fingers glide against the edges of the coat, he snatches it out of Even’s hands and quickly covers himself with it, the exact same way Even did, with his hand missing the arm hole the first time. He then buttons himself up with lightning quick movements and looks at Even, slowly balling up his fists at his side again. Even wants to laugh but doesn’t because the whole situation is too bizarre. 

 

The boy doesn’t understand Norwegian or English. He’s naked on a November night in Oslo. He’s clearly been severely hurt and has his guard up. He doesn’t know what to do with a jacket. And he can pack quite the punch. 

 

Even’s mind conjures up terrible answers for the boy’s situation, with none of them working to subdue the panic rising in his chest. But he doesn’t want to turn him over to the police. The boy will probably punch his way through the station and end up with more charges stacked against himself than against whoever put him in this situation in the first place. Even needs to gain his trust and find a common ground with him. Then, he can possibly try to communicate with the boy. Maybe he’ll call the police tomorrow. But for now, his place should do. 

 

After coming to what he would like to think is a flawless solution, Even turns his attention back onto the boy, who hasn’t stopped following his every move. Even puts his hands up in surrender, like he’s seen the guys do on Animal Planet when they approach wary animals. He tentatively takes a step forward, and apparently that’s all the boy needs to swing his fists at Even again. A clenched hand runs straight for Even’s face but misses when Even ducks. Another punch follows but misses too as Even jumps out of the way. The first hand comes back to swipe across the area where his stomach would have been, if Even hadn’t turned away. 

 

“Stop it! Stop it! I’m not going to hurt you,” Even cries. He rushes forward and captures the boy’s fists in his hands and holds them to his own chest so he can’t flail them out anymore. The boy seems to startle at the proximity and his stance wavers. Even takes the opportunity to bend down and look into the boy’s eyes. Their hands are tangled and resting under Even’s chin. He shakes his head slowly, trying to put all the care and love he can into his expression. Then, in the softest voice he knows, he says, “I’m trying to help you. Trust me, please.”

 

The boy stares uncomfortably at Even, letting his eyes roam around Even’s face. In the clump of their hands, Even can feel the boy’s own quivering. He wants to look at the boy’s legs to make sure they haven’t completely frozen off but something tells him not to look away from the boy’s unruly golden curls that seem to spill onto his forehead, the dark green eyes that reflect fatigue in its purest form, the red slope of his scrunched nose, pale cupid’s bow, and the slight stubble marking his jawline. His eyes travel back to meet the boy’s just as they flit to the ground. His hands loosen in Even’s grip and his frame quivers before completely collapsing into Even’s chest. Even envelops him in his arms, running his right arm over his back firmly. 

 

“Let’s get you somewhere warm, yeah?”

  
  
  
  


It takes Even an awkward message to Eskild, an uncomfortable tram ride filled with questioning looks and lots of jostling the suddenly exhausted boy around to finally get to his apartment, and he thanks his mother for having the common sense to pick out an apartment on the ground floor instead of the sixth floor he had initially wanted. The boy let Even steer him this way, leaning heavily onto him all throughout their journey to Even’s apartment. When they got on the tram, the boy’s mouth had turned O-shaped as he stared at the crowd of people and he had fumbled his way down the aisle. Once in their seats, Even had removed his socks from his boots and rolled them onto the boy’s feet as he slept slumped against the window of the tram. The boy’s sleeping face was clouded with strain and Even had the feeling that if he was awake, he would never let Even that close to him. His own feet felt weird as they touched the hard insides of his boots but he was no one to complain when the strange boy next to him had legs that had more or less turned to jello as they tried to make the trip.

 

Thirty excruciating minutes later, Even finds himself standing in the middle of his kitchen, running a hand through his hair over and over again as he paces back and forth in the tiny space between the fridge and the stove. The soft hum of the microwave as it heats up some pasta for the two of them is louder than the quivering of the boy’s teeth in the other end of the apartment, and Even is thankful for that. He has set the heater on the highest temperature he could without giving either of them nosebleeds but the boy continues to hold onto Even’s coat and shiver his way through time and space. Isak hasn’t let Even close enough yet to clean all the soot that lined his features or the dried cuts and bruises that dug into his arms and his legs. He looks so lost, it hurts Even’s chest.

 

The microwave beeps loudly, pulling Even out of his reverie. He squares his shoulders, grabs the bowl from inside, and slowly walks back into the main room of his studio apartment to where the boy is standing in front of Even’s bed. His arms hold onto Even’s coat tightly, and he seems to burrow himself into it even further than Even thought was possible. 

 

Even sets the bowl down on the little table opposite to his bed and lays out the forks and plates. Then he turns to the boy and sighs. 

 

“Those clothes are comfier than that coat, I promise you,” Even says, pointing to the clothes he has laid out for the boy on his bed earlier - a pair of old sweats, his comfiest sweater and some woolen socks his grandma knitted him for Christmas. Then he points to his own clothes and shakes them around a little. 

 

The boy blinks. 

 

Even walks over to the bed, grabs the clothes and lightly shoves them towards the boy’s chest. Then he mimics putting on a shirt but the boy just keeps looking at Even.  _ How does he not understand what Even is trying to say?  _

 

“Wear the clothes! You’re going to freeze yourself to death!” 

 

Suddenly, the boy begins yelling. He scrambles forward and and swings his hands around himself but not in Even’s directions. His screams don’t seem to be aimed at Even either. Tears pool at the corner of his eyes as he cries out sounds that Even doesn’t understand. He pulls at his blonde hair and wails angrily, his nose turning an alarming red. He then stomps his feet and it feels like the walls of Even’s apartment shake heavily with the movement. He turns around and punches the drawers behind him, creating a dent the size of his own face. 

 

“Hey! Hey! Calm down,” Even rushes to say as he tries to stop the boy’s wild gestures. The boy begins to speak in tones and noises Even doesn’t understand. He lets Even hold his hands but doesn’t stop shaking his head vigorously as he speaks in tongues Even can’t grasp. Even can feel the fringes of panic rising in his own chest as he fails to find a way to calm the boy so he lets go of his hands and grasps the sides of his face gently instead. He shushes him softly until the boy quiets down, his wild eyes finally boring into Even’s. 

 

“Hey. I’m sorry I upset you,” Even starts, “I didn’t mean to do that, okay? I’m just trying to help you. I know you’re lost and angry but it’s really cold outside and I can’t get you any of the help you need right now. You need to wear the clothes, get into bed and eat something so you can actually be alive tomorrow morning, alright?”

 

Without waiting for a response, lest he is met with a fight, Even quickly rolls up the sweater and slides it over the boy’s head. It bunches up around his neck and he looks down at the grey material in reluctant curiosity. Even then slowly shucks the coat from his arms and replaces it with the sleeves of the sweater. It probably says something about their situation that the boy allows Even to remove his only layer of protection when just a few minutes ago he had practically been yelling at the world.

 

Even, then, crouches down on the balls of his feet and reaches for the dirty, mud covered socks he had sloppily slipped on the boy in the tram. The boy pulls his foot back immediately and stares at Even with guarded eyes. Even holds his hands up in the air and waits for the boy to put his foot down again. When the boy doesn’t make another move, his left foot still eerily suspended in the air, Even pats the ground in front of him while never looking away from the boy’s startling eyes. Slowly, the boy seems to make up his mind and gingerly rests his foot in front of Even’s knees, as if ready to move it away from him as quickly as possible. Even rolls up a sock and lifts the boy’s foot to put it on. 

 

“You know, I never told you who I was,” Even muses quietly as he rolls the sock up, “although, I suppose, you wouldn’t understand even if I did.”

 

Even makes the boy switch feet and then begins to roll the sock up the boy’s right foot, “I’m Even and this is my apartment. Welcome.”

 

He looks up at the boy as he straightens up and then smiles. He taps his own chest twice and says once more, “Even.”

 

Then, without waiting for any sound of agreement from the boy, he takes a step back and gives him a once over, finally deciding that attempting to put pants on is probably a bit too intimate. Not that it seemed like the boy held any inhibitions of that sort. In fact, the boy didn’t seem to understand the purpose of the clothes Even was placing on him. He pulls at the material as he tiredly wobbles in his place and then pulls at Even’s shirt as if to compare and take notes. 

 

“Are you hungry?” Even asks and makes a gesture of bringing a spoon to his mouth. He opens his lips wide and exaggeratedly mimics eating, but the boy continues to stare at Even, this time with a hint of amusement fluttering across his face. 

 

“Oh, this is funny to you, isn’t it?” Even asks with a smile. Earlier, he didn’t think he’d get anything but a punch from this boy but now he’s got the flick of an amused eyebrow and he would like to take that as a victory for Team Even, thank you very much. 

 

“If you liked my acting of it, you’ll definitely like the real stuff. It’s my mum’s recipe,” Even adds as he walks over to bring the plates to the bed. As he juggles the plates in his arms, a fork slips between his fingers and hits the wooden floor underneath him. The fork falls to the floor with a sharp cling, making the boy in front of him jump with a loud gasp. Even slowly picks up the fork, holding it in the air so the boy can see it, and sets one plate on the bed, keeping one for himself. 

 

“Go ahead,” Even says as he jerks his head at the other plate. He slows down his actions as he pushes his fork into his pasta and into his mouth, so that the boy can understand what he meant. Even takes a couple bites like that without looking at the boy. Then, he notices the boy lean forward through the corner of his eye. He sniffs the plate and pokes the pasta with his grimy finger. Fumbling, he picks up the fork between four fingers and looks at Even closely. Even takes a big bite, making sure not to look in the boy’s direction. He doesn’t want to cause any embarrassment or fear that may lead to another panic filled outburst by the boy. He’s clearly been through enough without Even accidentally pushing him over the edge. 

 

The boy manages to take a small bite after poking around in his bowl for a couple of minutes. Even considers helping him but something inside tells him to leave him alone. Silently, the two boys eat their food until Even decides it’s too quiet. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, making sure to lower the volume immediately so the boy won’t be startled at Even’s horrifying volume levels. He flips over to a generic late night movie and sets the remote down. Behind him, the boy goes stock still as he watches the flashes of color on the screen. A man in a police uniform comically chases another younger man through a 70s-looking town, occasionally tripping over his feet in haste. The rolling soundtrack of audience laughing coupled with the sounds of misfired gunshots echo through the empty apartment as Even watches the boy in his bed becoming hypnotised by the moving figures. 

 

A shriek sounds off from the TV and a woman yells, “Stop running, Isak!”

 

The boy jumps out of Even’s bed suddenly, letting the plate of unfinished pasta fall to the ground in a clatter. For a few seconds he doesn’t move and Even’s confusion quickly turns into worry. 

 

“Hey! What is it?” Even asks as his fork slips out of his fingers. 

 

He turns to Even with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. He looks back at the TV where the woman is running behind the cop with a frying pan in her hand. She continues to shout for the Isak character to stop running, and with every word that comes out of her mouth, the boy next to Even seems to get more agitated. 

 

“Hey, what happened? What is it?”

 

The boy takes a deep breath and looks back at Even. His right hand shakes as he lifts it up to rest it on his chest. He raps it there a few times and then gulps loudly. His eyes reflect pure desperation and Even scrambles to figure out what he’s trying to tell him. This is the first time the boy’s even made a move to communicate with Even and he  _ can’t fucking understand what he’s saying, goddammit _ . 

 

The boy reaches out to Even, circles his fingers around Even’s wrist and tugs once, twice,  _ thrice _ . His face, however, faces the TV intently, almost like he’s waiting for something. The woman on the screen yells again, “Isak! I swear to God!”

 

The boy begins frantically pulling Even’s arm and after the fifth jerk, Even finally takes a guess as to what the boy is trying to say.

 

“Isak?” Even inquires, “Is that your name? Isak?”

 

The boy stares at Even again, but this time there is relief coloring his eyes and his lips slip upward. 

 

“Isak,” Even says once again firmly and then another time to allow the questions the name brings settle on his tongue, “Isak.”


	3. Curious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And chapter two is out! A billion thanks to Sue for betaing this and pointing out all my ridiculous grammar mistakes. Not all heroes wear capes you know.

**Isak**  
**Unknown location**  
**Unknown exoplanet**  
**Orion arm, Milky Way**

 

When the experiment - or  _ Isak, _ as  _ Even _ kept calling it ever since they figured out its codename -wakes up, it’s dark outside. This doesn’t tell Isak much. It was dark when it fell asleep as well, and without knowing its current latitude, nor the speed of this planet, it’s hard for it to calculate how much time has passed. The dark screen in the corner of the rooms displays what Isak supposes could be the time, but without recognising the symbols, that information is just as useless. 

 

Silently, Isak sits up in the dark room. The mattress underneath it is much thicker than what Isak is used to, but it feels comfortable. Covering its lap is a heavy piece of fabric, and upon inspecting it with its touch, Isak resonates that the fibres must origin from another species inhabiting this planet as it is unlike any synthetic material it knows about. Exoplanet LS 626 with its thin atmosphere and limited water supply doesn’t have any species inhabiting it, save for Isak’s creators with their broken host bodies and life sustaining technology, but Isak has read about other more luxuriant planets capable of hosting thousands of different species in the Intergalactic Council’s Open Encyclopedia.

 

Isak is still dressed in the strange uniform given to it by Even, its fabric just as foreign as the blanket’s. It’s a strange uniform; unicoloured and ill-fitting, without any information on it to indicate where the wearer belongs. It’s comfortable though, and Isak is grateful for it. Although Isak’s own uniform probably saved it from being scorched to death in the crash, the fabric was beyond repair, and Isak had been forced to get rid of it lest he wanted to be exposed to the hazardous chemicals oozing through the damaged material. 

 

Looking down from the bed, Isak spots Even’s silhouette. They are lying on a rug situated in front of the windows, illuminated by the pale light of what Isak concludes must be the planet’s natural satellite. Isak has never cared much for aesthetics, at least not what was considered aesthetically pleasing on LS 626, but it finds the picture of the sleeping figure strangely pleasing to look at. Having studied both Even and the figures on the digital screen for hours before it fell asleep, it still finds it surrealistic to look down at an organism so similar to itself though. At LS 626, its status as a genetic experiment had always made it feel different — sui generis. Coming to a planet inhabited by a species so similar to itself feels weird, but it’s also oddly comforting to realise that there are others like it. 

 

So far, Even has shown themselves to be non-threatening and kind to Isak. Never during any of its fear provoked attacks did they respond with violence, and so far they’ve either knowingly or unknowingly solved several of Isak’s problems; giving it shelter, providing it nutrition, and promising it safety Whereas Isak felt panicked and exhausted after the crash, it now feels well enough to control its rampant thoughts again. For now, keeping to Even’s good side and entrusting them to take care of Isak whilst it gets back at its feet sounds like the best course of action. It really doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday, when it’s exhaustion and fear got the best of it, making it act irrationally and helpless to defend itself. No matter how low on nutrition it is, it really shouldn’t give in to stress the way it did - it’s just not a beneficial reaction. 

 

However, Isak still has several problems left to solve. Firstly, with its initial escape plan having been compromised, it is now stranded on an alien exoplanet, it’s ship burnt beyond repair. It also has  no means of communicating with the inhabitants of said planet, seeing as it has yet to connect to their network, and that they most likely don’t speak any of the thirteen officially recognised languages in the Intergalactic Council. Used to being constantly online and having the ability to instantly do research on foreign topics, being cut off feels uncomfortable and wrong. It doesn’t even know the name of the planet, so even if it were to have some information about the planet saved to it’s harddisk, it wouldn’t know what to look for. 

 

It is also, for the first time in its life, no longer connected to a nutrient cable. This means that Isak will have to figure out how to gain nutrition orally, and get used to the highs and lows that come with not constantly getting perfectly calculated doses of nutrition delivered directly into its system. It had been bad yesterday, the unfamiliarity of the lows making Isak feel unbalanced and exhausted. However, by some incredible stroke of luck, Isak  is apparently capable of digesting this planet’s food, or at least whatever it was that Even had served it. At first, the taste had been far too much for Isak’s inexperienced taste buds, and each bite had felt like an attack. Its digestion system had also struggled, having never had to dissolve the food given into individual molecules, and only a few bites in, Isak had been so full it felt like it was going to burst. However, despite the initial discomfort, it now feels much better. 

 

Clearly, the most pressing manner right now is getting back online, not only for the practical benefits that come with having access to information, but also for Isak’s psychological health. Being disconnected feels like being trapped in a far too small box , thoughts unable to reach their destination and instead whirring around aimlessly, making Isak’s head hurt. Isak knows that this planet must have a network - he saw Even use a small communication device yesterday. The problem is that the combination of different atmospheric content and technological development means that Isak is unable to instantly connect the way it’s used to. However, if it manages to hack into a device already connected to the system, it assumes that it should be able to learn from the setup and use the information to get itself online.  

 

Scanning the room yet again, it finds the communication device on a table at the other end of the room. Slightly unhappy that it has to leave the comforting warmth of the bed, it stands up, blanket draping over its shoulders. After a slight moment of indecision it also brings the soft headrest with it, because although it has sat immovable on a hard floor for hours before, that doesn’t mean it’ll miss the opportunity to sit comfortably. Luckily for Isak, its creators have very sensitive hearing, so it is used to walking as silently as possible. It therefore reaches the table without making a sound, and with Even remaining fast asleep. 

 

Bringing the device down to the floor with it, Isak protracts the cable in its right wrist. It is a thin cable with a tip designed and preprogrammed to connect to most ports, and a sophisticated AI programme that lets it adapt if it were to meet an unfamiliar port. Surprisingly, considering how isolated this planet seem to be, Isak is able to connect without having to adapt its cable. In response to Isak, the device’s screen lights up, requesting what Isak assumes is a password. Isak quickly overrides the request with a single brute force attack, and then he’s in, perfectly situated to learn what it has to learn about this planet and its inhabitants.

 

Before Isak can use any information, however, it needs to understand the symbols and language used by the system. Having absolutely nothing to go from, it opens the communication device’s keyboard, and uses the symbols displayed as a reference point to randomly toss symbol combinations, several thousands per millisecond, into the search filter, hoping that it can crack the language based on what gives it a hit and what doesn’t. Then, it slowly starts to string the hits together, utilising the pre-installed video programme from the device in its hand (a phone, it soon learns it’s called) to link the symbol combinations to actual concepts and understand their meaning. It takes longer than Isak would have liked it to, but soon it is grasping the basics of  _ English,  _ which seems to be one of the more common languages used. The basics having been understood, its learning curve is exponential, and three hours later Isak can be considered a fluent English speaker, save for the struggle it has with actually speaking it the way Even did earlier. 

 

It has nearly finished downloading and learning Mandarin Chinese, this time using a meager half an hour to master the subject with the help of English to decode the dictionaries, when it realises that Even had spoken neither English nor Mandarin when first approaching Isak. ‘You don’t understand Norwegian,’ Even had told it, and with Isak’s newfound grasp of English it realises that Norwegian must be Even’s native language. Demoting the task of learning Mandarin so that it keeps running in the background, Isak directs its focus to learning Norwegian, which turns out to be even easier than Mandarin. Not only is the language itself very similar to English, but creating an algorithm able to use information from two different languages and two different dictionaries to cross-reference makes the task of learning a third even easier. 

 

Having mastered a small assortment of the existing languages, Isak focuses on learning about the system so that it can operate it without the phone, as well as gathering information on the planet itself. It’s initial plan of downloading all the data on the network as it had done back home quickly comes to a halt when Isak realises just how much information this network contains. Even with its very DNA genetically altered for the purpose of storing new data isn’t there any chance that Isak will be able to download it all, at least not without it taking years. As long as it stays online it shouldn’t be too much of a problem though, as it can just search for new information online should it need it. 

 

The planet is called Earth by its dominating residents, the humans of which there are over 7 billions. A quick cross reference in Isak’s saved files from the Intergalactic Council’s Open Encyclopedia reveals that the planet’s name is intergalactically recognised as Exoplanet 2121- TELLUS, and that its inhabitants are considered too unintelligent to be considered for qualification in the council. However, the decision seems to have been made a while ago and the planet’s info hasn’t been updates since, so Isak suspects the council are working with outdated intel. 

 

Humans seem to thrive in packs they call societies, and it’s not uncommon for different packs to clash together in violent conflicts. They have two different sexes, with gametes from both required to procreate. For most of their history, the reproductive organs for each respective sex has also served as a classifier for which  _ gender  _ they belong to, which again has historically decided which tasks in society should be carried by who. In more recent times however, some individuals have challenged these norms, arguing that one sex can carry out a variety of tasks just as well as the other. Some have also separated the sex determined by their reproductive organs from their gender, which they argue is a concept that lies in the consciousness. Having no previous concept of gender identity, Isak has no way of knowing which gender it belongs to. However, it’s reproductive organs seem to harmonise with what is generally considered those belonging to a male specimen, so Isak resonates that it might as well take that gender as well, seeing as statistically speaking, most humans have a corresponding sex and gender. Even also seems to be a male, but Isak can’t know for sure seeing as he hasn't been able to study much of Even, save for his face and hands, the rest covered by clothing. Having now learnt how prudent humans are with nudity, and remembering Even’s reaction to Isak’s nude body, Isak deems it unlikely that he will ever be able to study Even that way and is surprised when a small part of him feels disappointed.

 

If Isak could, he would have sat like this forever, learning everything that is about this new and fascinating planet so unlike his home. He is beyond fascinated by this species, so similar to himself in appearance despite his engineered commencement. However, he has still not completely recovered from yesterday’s activities, and soon he can feel himself nodding off, no longer able to consciously process the information he’s collecting. He tries to fight it, but soon he’s fast asleep, head supported by the table leg, the phone still connected to his wrist. 

  
  


He wakes up to the sound of his code name being called softly. Still leaning against the table leg, Isak lifts his head in order to blink sluggishly at a smiling Even, who lets out a small laugh. Isak now knows that laughs are a sign of amusement, but he’s still not sure what Even is laughing at, or what the appropriate response to hearing one would be. So instead of reacting to it, he focuses on waking up and becoming aware of the autonomous computer systems running in his mind again. Suddenly realising that he’s still connected to the phone, and that Even is looking at the cable with furrowed brows, he carefully extracts it and hands the phone to Even.

 

“Uh…” 

 

He suddenly realises that he has no idea how to actually move his tongue in order to pronounce the words he’s learned, their sounds so unlike anything he’s ever practised before. His apology therefore dies in his mouth and he lets out a small sigh. Even seems to get it though, because he takes the phone and gives Isak a soft smile; yet another non-threatening expression Isak learned the meaning of during the night. He hasn’t really considered how much humans use their body language to speak, and is acutely aware of the fact that being able to communicate here means more than just knowing the words.

 

“Thank you. Are you hungry?” Even asks, still smiling..

 

At least his ears are better at translating sounds than his mouth is at pronouncing them, because unlike yesterday, Isak now understands what he’s saying. He’s also learned that nodding your head is a nonverbal way of saying yes, so that’s what he does, rapidly and repeatedly. It makes Even laugh.

 

“I’m not sure if that was you understanding me, or just a lucky coincidence. But I’m gonna make us breakfast anyway,” he says, stretching his hand towards Isak.

 

Isak looks curiously and the hand in front of him, unsure of what Even wants him to do with it. He learnt about humans shaking each others hands as a greeting during his research yesterday, so not knowing any better course of action, he grabs Even’s hand with his own and gives him a firm shake. Even’s smile grows wider.

 

“Well, hello to you as well. But I was actually trying to help you up,” he says, and before Isak can react, Even pulls him to his feet.

 

Surprised at the sudden movement, Isak lets out a little yelp, and accidentally turns on the telly with his mind. This makes Even frown again, looking down at their still joined hands where Isak’s cable is dangling loosely, and back to the television. The attention makes Isak sheepishly retract the cable into his wrist.

 

“Did you just use yedi powers to turn on the television, or should I add hallucinations to the list of things that are wrong with my head?”

Isak frowns, a bit. He’s not sure to answer the question, as he’s not exactly sure what Even is asking. He knows that “yedi powers” is a made-up term from a popular film, but he doesn’t know how it relates to himself. Nor does he understand how he should be able to tell Even whether he’s hallucinating or not. So he decides to show his confusion through the one way of communication he knows how to grasp - technology. 

 

Even gasps when his phone suddenly lights up, looking down at the lock screen. Then he holds it up in front of Isak, showing him the message containing nothing but a single question mark, from an unknown number. 

 

“That was you, wasn’t it? Well, I guess that answers the question,” Even says shakily. His mouth opens and closes, as if he’s unsure what to say. “You have a lot of explaining to do, you know,” he finally continues, eyes boring into Isak’s.

 

Isak swallows and nods, breaking eye contact in order to look down at the floor. He’s used to being scrutinised and stared at, but for some reason it feels different when it is Even doing it. It might be the height difference, but it might also be the lingering fear from yesterday which is still affecting his subconscious.

 

Even must notice his uneasiness, because he lets out a sigh, and when Isak looks up again, his eyes have softened. 

 

“But we can take that later. I promised you breakfast, didn’t I?” he says, and before Isak can respond, walks into the kitchen, opening what Isak assumes must be a refrigerator. “What do you want? Or, let me see what I have for you…” 

 

Still a little shaken from the sudden turn in behaviour, Isak is still frozen on his spot when Even’s head reappears from the refrigerator’s door. Clutching a pink carton in one hand, and a square packet in gold foil with the other, he closes the door with his hip and flashes Isak a smile. It makes Isak wonder if all humans smile as much as Even. 

 

“It seems like I can’t offer you anything but eggs, unless you’re into sandwiches with pickles?” 

 

Without waiting for Isak to answer, Even turns around and starts searching through the cupboards. Upon finding what he’s looking for -a black frying pan - he makes a pleased sound and places the object on the stove. Having never seen fresh food before and drawn to the sight of Even opening the pink carton, Isak takes the few steps it takes to get up behind Even, whogives him a smile, and points towards the two objects on the kitchen counter with a knife. 

“This is butter. If you’re going to make anything tasty, you need butter,” Even points to the yellow square and cuts off a sizeable chunk, which he drops into the pan. “And these are eggs. I’m not sure if I want to tell you what exactly that is, because it sounds a little grotesque to be honest,” he continues, pointing to the contents of the pink carton.

 

Isak frowns. He knows the definition of the word egg from the night’s extensive language lesson, but maybe the clinical description from the dictionary is lacking something. Curiosity piqued, he takes advantage of finally being online, and searches the word ‘egg’, letting out a surprised squeak when he realises that the yellow substance Even is currently whisking together in a bowl, has the potential to become a small downy creature. Noticing his outburst, Even looks up from the bowl and meets Isak’s wide eyes. 

 

“I’m gonna assume you just went ahead and figured out what an egg is without my help. If you don’t want to eat it now then that’s okay. I still have the pickles I mentioned, and they’re honestly not that bad. Do you want pickles instead?”

 

Unused to being asked for his own opinion on a matter so trivial as nutrition, Isak has to stop to consider the question. Does he find it weird that humans eat the reproductive bodies of other species? Yes, of course. But Isak’s never learnt much empathy through his upbringing, so does he mind it? Not really. Decision made, Isak shakes his head. 

 

Upon seeing Isak’s answer, Even lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank god. I made way too much eggs for just me to eat,” he says, turning around and pouring the whisked eggs into the pan. 

 

With the eggs hissing in the pan, Even reaches out towards a radio on the counter next to him and turns the knob. Soon a cheery tune about five pretty ladies dancing in a club is pouring from the device. It makes Isak frown, unsure of the point of  the tune. He grows even more confused when Even starts mouthing the words and bobbing his head with the music’s beat, seemingly having forgotten about Isak’s presence. It’s only when he seems satisfied with the eggs in the pan that he finally turns around, looking at Isak again with yet another grin painting his face. 

 

“Sorry, I tend to get a bit lost in my own world when I’m cooking. Were you impressed by my moves?” he asks while setting the pan down on the table and gesturing for Isak to take place on one of the chairs.

 

Unsure on how to answer his question, Isak elects to ignore it and sit down instead. Even seems to accept this because he doesn’t repeat the question, just turns around to grab two plates from the cupboard, which he then loads with a generous portion of eggs each before offering one to Isak. 

 

Hungry and eager to try the new dish, Isak digs straight into it, without waiting for Even to offer him cutlery. If he’s honest with himself, it’s just as much hunger as it is unwillingness to deal with the weird utensils that makes him use his hands to shovel fistfuls of food into his mouth. He knows that Even is staring, but he doesn’t seem to be directly disapproving, so Isak elects to ignore him. The eggs taste good, with just enough flavour for Isak’s inexperienced taste buds to be stimulated, but not overwhelmed. 

 

He soon feels full though, and that rather abruptly when suddenly his body starts rejecting the sustenance, forcing him to drop the food left in his hands and spit out what he was currently chewing. His stomach aches, stretched beyond what is comfortable, and yet he stares forlornly at the remaining food on the plate, wishing he could keep eating. 

 

Tearing his eyes away from the plate, Isak looks up at Even who is watching him with a curious expression, fork having just made contact with a piece of egg on his plate. 

 

“I would make a joke about you never having seen food before, but I’m slightly scared that it might be the truth,” he says, still looking at Isak. But before Isak can answer, Even’s phone lets out a sound - making him drop his fork in surprise. 

 

Swearing, Even fishes up his phone and unlocks the screen while Isak observes him. Being connected to the phone, he’s already read the message, but seeing as nothing about Even’s mother wanting to meet up with her son is relevant to Isak, he can’t bring himself to care too much about it. That is, until Even finishes typing out his reply with a sigh and looks up at Isak.

 

“I guess we’re visiting my mum today. Seeing as I’m not comfortable with leaving you alone yet, and that I might have told her that I’ve gotten a new friend, this is the best solution,” he says, sending Isak a sheepish smile. 

 

Isak narrows his eyes. He doesn’t really feel like meeting other humans, but he suspects that Even is not going to budge. Unwilling to use violence, and unfamiliar with how to express his reluctance any other way, Isak really doesn’t know how he could avoid meeting Even’s mum. Even also seems to see this because his smile grows, although he might not realise that Isak only knows how to say ‘no’ through blowing things up, in which case he probably wouldn’t back him into a corner the way he is doing right now. 

 

“Since you haven’t texted me a ‘no’ with capital letters and a bunch of exclamation marks, I’m gonna assume that you’re on board with my plan. And don’t worry, my mum is great, if a little overbearing. You’ll love it, it’s gonna be fun. I’ll even take you to the park before we go see her!”

 

Even is wrong. There is nothing ‘fun’ about meeting his parents. ow that they’re finally there,  Isak is squirming in his seat wishing he could be anywhere else. Even his cell back at LS 626 would be better than enduring this sad attempt at human socialisation.

 

Sure, everything wasn’t awful. Even had taken him to the Botanical gardens, and explained that even though it was winter right now, the Palm House hosted a variety of vegetation from all over the world and would still be worth a look. So amongst more plants than he’d ever known existed, Isak had gotten the opportunity to see, smell and touch the phototrophs responsible for so much of this planet’s life, an experience which had left him in awe. Next to him, Even had tried to explain how the exhibition not only showed off plants, but also told a story about the evolution of them, and although Isak could easily have been able to acquire this information himself, something about the way Even had eagerly explained it all to him had made Isak value the information so much more. He had also discovered that the snow covering the ground was significantly more pleasant when experienced with adequate clothing.

 

The fact that not many people had bothered making the trip here a cold November day also made the experience  much better, giving Isak a break from the stress of the outside world they had to face getting to the gardens. At first, Even had escorted him onto the tram, but the combination of being locked into a small space filled with unfamiliar humans and a sudden throbbing headache had stressed Isak so much he was more or less vibrating in his seat, making every device in the tram accessible to Isak’s subconscious - including Even’s cellphone light up with various error messages. After no more than one stop, Even had to give up and lead Isak off the tram, making their way to the gardens on foot. Although not completely comfortable with this either, and jumping at each blaring horn or brush of shoulders, Isak had been able to occupy himself by taking in the view in front of him and saving information about his observations. 

 

Now he’s sitting next to Even in front of his parents, the atmosphere uncomfortable enough for even Isak, with his limited exposure to human interaction, is able to pick up on it. Even is attempting to save the dying conversation by talking about a person named Eskild and his antics at work, but it’s half hearted and from how Isak can feel two pair of eyes boring into him, Even’s parents aren’t really interested in the tale either. Isak clenches his fist, torn between shrinking in on himself or lashing out, and unable to tell what would be the appropriate reaction in this situation. His headache is back as well, pounding into his skull with a pain Isak hasn’t felt since he was much younger and his creators had performed a hardware upgrade on him.

 

Ever since they stepped into the moderately sized flat inhabited by Even’s parents, things had gone wrong. It had started with Even’s mum attempting to greet Isak, doing so by caging him in with her arms. Isak had let out a shriek and flinched at the contact, and Even had to do some quick damage control by telling her that Isak doesn’t like having his personal space invaded. In response she had profusely apologised and introduced herself as Elin, offering him her hand instead, but now spooked, Isak had done nothing but stare until she had to lowered it in defeat. He had however managed to mumble something sounding like his name the way Even pronounced it, after remembering that humans usually respond to people introducing themselves in similar fashion. That had made Even look at him with wide eyes, surprised at the progress, but it only made Elin frown.

 

Then they had been led into the living room and asked to sit down on a stylish couch. All Isak cared about however, was the thin, brown, hopefully edible human-like figures smelling like food he spotted on a plate on the table in front of the couch. Hungry from their excursion to the Botanical Gardens he had eagerly reached out, breaking all unspoken laws about etiquette. The figures had a crunchy texture, but once chewed, filled his mouth with unfamiliar sweetness. Only after he had finished his first one and was reaching out for a second did he notice how everybody’s eyes were directed at him, and how Even’s hand was reaching out mid-air as if to stop him. Unwilling to displease Even, Isak had retreated his hand, but by then the atmosphere had already awkward.

 

Finally realising that nobody is buying his attempt at salvaging the situation, Even’s voice fades out and he retrieves his phone from his pocket. With Even looking at the phone, Isak grabs the opportunity to communicate with him.

 

**_[Ukjent nummer]_** **_Onsdag, 15:45_**

_ Permission to leave? _

 

After reading the text Even looks at Isak as if he’s still not a hundred percent sure if Isak is the one sending him messages. But then he looks over at his parents again, sending them an apologising smile.

 

“I forgot that I am the only one with keys to the studio at Tøyen, and now Eskild is telling me that he really needs the extra softboxes we’ve got stored there for uh, an artistic shoot they’re doing. He’s really hoping to get it featured in the January/February issue of Fotografi,” he announces.

 

Even’s parents don’t look convinced, but Isak couldn’t care less seeing as Even is standing up and subtly motioning for him to do the same. Happy to do so, Isak stands up as well, hopefully managing not to seem too impatient as Even walks over to give his parents a hug before they leave together to collect their shoes in the hall.

 

When they step outside, Isak notices it’s completely dark, even though they barely spent an hour at Even’s parents. Even doesn’t even try making Isak take the tram this time, seemingly content to make their way back on foot even though it’s cold enough for their breath to come out as thick white clouds. Isak looks up at the night sky, studying what space looks like from this planet. Even must notice and follows his gaze, a serene smile on his face. 

 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it? Probably the prettiest sight that is. But sometimes it makes me feel rather lonely to think that we might be the only ones inhabiting it. Alone and without direction in the vastness of space.”

 

He’s wrong on all points. Although the starry sky they’re looking at right now is pretty, it can’t compare to the one at LS 626 where the ultra thin atmosphere that makes it near impossible for life to flourish also offers a nearly unobscured view of the sky. And, with Isak being born and raised on a planet far away, as an experiment deemed illegal by a council consisting of organisms from all over the universe, the second statement could perhaps be considered plain ridiculous. He says nothing though, used to keeping his opinions to himself.

 

When they get back to Even’s flat, Isak throws himself onto the bed without much ceremony, snuggling into the warmth the blankets provide. Even laughs, commenting that it’s only seven and that they haven’t had dinner yet, but he gently sits down next to him so Isak’s suggestion can’t have been too ridiculous. 

 

“m’ tired. Headache,” he mumbles, and can feel how Even stiffens next to him. Although the pronunciation still is a little bit off, today’s events have provided him with a sufficient amount of data on how to move his mouth in order to form words. 

 

“What? You speak now?” Even’s voice is tainted with disbelief.

 

“Yes. Permission to sleep now?” Isak doesn’t want to talk right now, he wants to sleep and get rid of the headache that keeps pounding in his skull. He will keep talking if Even demands him to, but he’d really rather not.

 

“I guess keeping you from sleep would be cruel. We can talk more about this tomorrow. Good night Isak,” Even sounds a little unhappy, but he’s given Isak the consent he needs.

 

“Night Even.”

 

He can feel his eyes slipping close, but just as he’s about to let sleep consume him, Even’s phone gives off a ding. Still connected to the phone, Isak is also able to read the message.

 

**_Mamma [Onsdag, 18:30]_ **

_ I’m not so sure about your new friend Even. You strike me as two completely different people and I’m not sure if he is the kind of friend who will be there for you when you need it.  _


End file.
